Cowboy, Take Me Away. Kathleen Eagle

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      Given the kind of erotic thoughts she’d been having lately, it was probably pretty risky for her to let a man who smelled this good get this close, but she was sure she had the upper hand. She was a woman, after all. She knew how to smell the flowers. Or, in this case, the alfalfa. She knew how to lose herself on a little detour, soak up some unexpected warmth and inhale the greener grass.

       Close your eyes and take a long, slow breath. Let the picture draw itself in your mind. Pure, natural manhood.

      Now that she knew why Mike had insisted on her coming to Sheridan to watch him put his newly trained calf roping horse to the test, she had to admit, he wasn’t totally off base. It felt good to “meet somebody.” Not Mike’s choice of somebody. Not an internet site’s choice or the choice of a friend worried about her widowhood, but her own out-of-the-blue discovery. Somebody who tapped into her own senses and jangled nerves she’d tried and failed to forget she had. Not that she didn’t like the feeling, but she wasn’t sure she could rein it in if she gave it any slack.

      “It was nice of Mrs. Quinn to let me take Skyler dancing.” He leaned back and smiled at her. “Tell her for me next time you see her.”

      “Tell her yourself.” She looked up, but not, she realized, as far up as she’d expected to. The way he carried himself made him seem taller than he was.

      “Truthfully, I don’t see her. Everyone else does, but I don’t.”

      “You’re like that comedian on TV, huh? He doesn’t see skin color, including his own?” He chuckled. “How do you know what everyone else sees?”

      “Maybe not you. Who do you see?”

      “Right now, I see a woman who’s enjoying herself.”

      “Good eye, cowboy.” Wolf eyes. Tawny and teasing, they twinkled with every charming line he spoke. “Would you have fixed me up with Earl Kessler?”

      “Absolutely not. And I don’t know Earl Kessler.” He shook his head. “I don’t know what Mike was thinking. He should have fixed you up with me.”

      “He shouldn’t be trying to fix me up at all.”

      “If he hadn’t, would we be dancing right now?” He raised his wounded brow. “Would Mrs. Quinn have let Skyler come out to play?”

      “Mrs. Quinn might have gone out with you herself. You wouldn’t have been able to dance this close, but otherwise you wouldn’t know the difference.”

      “Ah, so you do know her.”

      “I don’t see her, but she was fifteen years in the making, so I know her.”

      He smiled again. “I only dance as close as my partner wants me to. Sometimes it’s like this. Sometimes it’s even closer. But I always know the difference.”

      “Instinctively?”

      “My instincts are pretty good. I’ve got good ears, too.”

      “And you’ve got a good lump on your head.” The knot on the right side of his temple was decorated with Steri-Strips. Without thinking, she touched the outer edge of the goose egg. “Does it hurt?”

      “Only when I touch it.” He laughed when she jerked her hand away. “Do that again. Your fingers feel cool.”

      She put her hand back in its proper place on his shoulder. “I’ve fallen off a horse a few times, but I’ve never been kicked.”

      “I didn’t fall.”

      “You were unloaded.”

      “I made the whistle. That’s what counts.”

      She welcomed the excuse to touch his head again. “This counts.”

      “That’s what I’ve heard,” he said, grinning. “I know it draws sharks, but I didn’t realize blood was a chick magnet.”

      She laughed. “Hardly.”

      “Hardly attracted?”

      “Hardly a chick.”

      “You’re right. My bad.” He flashed that infectious grin again. “You like ‘filly bait’ any better?”

      “Give it up, cowboy. I like you, okay? No bloodshed necessary. Extra points for not calling me a mother hen.”

      Trace guided her to the corner booth they’d claimed at the Mane and Tail Tavern, one of Sheridan’s quieter nightspots. Rodeo cowboys preferred Bob’s Place and rodeo fans followed rodeo cowboys. His hand on the small of her back was their only contact point, but she felt him covering her back, head to heels.

      “I like you, too,” he said as she took herself from him, only to slide around the vinyl curve of the seat and meet him at the back of the booth. “So let’s get this out on the table. I’m not a kid. I’m not sure I ever was. I was raised by my stepfather, and he was younger than my mother. Still is if she’s alive.”

      “You don’t know?”

      “I like to think she isn’t.” He toyed with his watered-down whiskey, spreading its sweat ring in an ever-widening circle. “I made up a story about how she was trying to get back to us when she got hit by a train. That’s the only reason we never heard from her again.” He sipped his drink before eyeing her. “How’s that for bloodthirsty? Do I lose points?”

      “She just disappeared?”

      “She told us she was gonna look for a better place for us. I knew she wasn’t coming back. Logan had adopted us first thing after he married her. He told her he wasn’t goin’ anywhere, and for a while he thought she’d come back.” He smiled wistfully. “He was so damn young.” His eyes suddenly gleamed. “But he was a good father, and he will be again. He just remarried. Took him a while, but, hell, when that man makes up his mind, he doesn’t waste any time. I hope this one works out better for him.”

      “Is this one older, too?”

      “Older than Logan?” He shook his head. “She’s probably not much older than me. Funny. I don’t remember ever running into her, but turns out she didn’t live too far away. Two different worlds, I guess. Small, side by side and different.”

      “Where are they?”

      “South Dakota. Logan—my dad—he’s Sioux. Lakota Sioux.”

      “You’re not?”

      “In name only. He offered his name when he adopted us, and we jumped on it. Who wouldn’t? Wolf Track.” He punctuated a tight-lipped growl with a fisted gesture. “Powerful name.”

      “So he’s your true father.”

      “Oh, yeah. Taught me everything I know about horses. Not everything he knows, but everything I know.”

      “Is he a rodeo cowboy, too?”

      “No. He’s smarter than that. Logan’s a СКАЧАТЬ